


I Know Better

by Spokane



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Carol Danvers does what she wants, Copious Right Stuff References, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Xandar, Yon-Rogg learns a few lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-26 10:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spokane/pseuds/Spokane
Summary: Carol needs a specialist for her next mission, fortunately she happens to know a guy.However, intel is slower coming in than she'd hoped, leaving her unsure of how to proceed with the time at her leisure.





	1. destination: anywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not technically kidnapping, right?

 

 

The planet was agreeably warm, nearly subtropical by Terran standards and yet Carol Danvers never felt less at ease.

 When it was all said and done, Xandar was an easy choice for setting up shop for the moment. The Nova Empire could protect the Skrulls who settled there, seeing as there was absolutely no love lost between them and the Kree thanks to a-couple-of-centuries-long war waging between the two of them, but thankfully most of it happened by proxy on backwater planets quite far from Hala or Xandar. Nonetheless, Talos opted for a more cautiously subtle approach to the whole situation, they avoided settling in large groups or clusters on Xandar to avoid raising any suspicion or alarms.

 With the credits donated to her for her various deeds across the galaxy, she’d easily been able to help Talos and his crew settle, however buying her own anonymity had been a bit of a trick. Sure, Captain Marvel was making a name for herself around the city and the galaxy, but no one needed to know of the Terran Carol Danvers who lived on the outskirts of the capital in a quaint little dome shaped dwelling. Truth be told, it was the closest thing to her suburban home settings that she could find and there was some comfort in that. But earth, _home_ , Maria, Monica, her old life, and her sworn duty to protect were currently splitting her down the middle, coexisting with her darker vengeful desires and her own personal grievances that swirled around her head.

 She had to shake herself back into focus, reining in her wandering mind from its many scattered focal points. She’d just had a thoughtlessly bad idea pop into her head, and in a classic move- it wouldn’t leave her mind. Even while the others were busy talking, her mind was foolishly elsewhere.  She was the one who called for the regrouping after it’d all gone to hell in a hand basket, and she was the one who needed to set things right, the least she could do was-

  _Pay attention Carol._

 “Well, we can’t just go blasting into Chandilar guns blazing if ya know what I mean...Hmm. This is a real doozy ain’t it?”

Talos drawled from across the table, drumming his hands on the pristine white surface.

 “-Something a little more covert. I think- something that might work-” One of his comrades chimed in, but Carol missed most of it.

 She roughly tapped the place on her suit that housed her universal translator chip, it’d been delayed and a little choppy since she took that hit on a rescue mission gone _very_ south on Tsorcherhi. That same mission was what brought them into this decidedly dicey position, of trying to stop a bad situation from getting roughly a million times worse if her calculations were correct. She had no idea how to repair the chip, or where to take it, but given the state of things it was going to need to wait.

 “Yeah, hate to say it but your last plan didn’t go so well.” Talos leaned back, gesturing out the window to the severely damaged hull of the heavily modified Xandarian ship Carol had taken to calling the “Starbuster” sitting in the back shed. Or what was left of it, anyways.

 “I-” She couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to go through with this, but as they all turned towards her, she knew she had no choice. “I know a guy.”

 “Will he help us?”

 “Oh yeah, he will.” _Trust me._  “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Carol grinned winsomely at what she considered to be a incredibly brilliant reference, only to have it fall terribly flat as Talos and his cohort all stared expectantly. Only to remember she was on an alien planet, sitting in a dining room much too small for 10 houseguests who all believed she was some sort of infallible hero in the midst of planning a rescue mission, all while trying to avoid an all out war with another empire entirely. Maybe she should save the Godfather references for later.

 She cleared her throat as she steeled her grin into something she hoped looked as stoic and courageous as they expected. “Shouldn’t take me long before I find who I need.”

 

-

 

She didn’t _need_ Yon-Rogg per say, he just happened to be the best individual to fit the job description. And damn if he didn’t owe her one and then a million. She needed a specialist, a tactician to minimize the cost of lives on their next scouting mission, especially if this turned into an impromptu extraction mission like the last one. Really, she needed someone who could strategize on the fly, someone whose mind worked like a fine-tuned navigation system- always recalibrating and recalculating according to the odds they were currently being dealt. If that didn’t have Kree Commander written all over it, then nothing did. She couldn’t find any record of him digging through her Hala archives anymore, as if he’d been wiped from the system entirely. She couldn’t find his record on prison files, so assuming he wasn’t dead he was somewhere out in the wide universe.  

 Unless he was lying to her, which wouldn’t’ve surprised her terribly, she had an inkling of where he might be. A fuzzy memory of a place he’d told her about long ago, when she couldn’t clear the storm of her mind for long enough to complete morning meditation. He divulged his personal meditative image to her, what he thought of when he cleared his mind and comforted himself. Carol had finally put the bits and pieces together from what she remembered him saying about the place, busy yet warm- peaceful yet lively. It sounded somewhat like a place she hadn’t been entirely sure existed until a few weeks ago.  

 Krelar. It was a forbidden fruit, especially for anyone with devout loyalty to Hala. What’d formerly served as a tiny mid-system spaceport planet for the Kree, was currently overrun with too many species to count and rumored to be a bustling, rough place. The empire pretended it didn’t exist, and it didn’t appear on any of their system maps. Apparently the Kree who’d settled there centuries ago had gone rogue- representing a flaw in the system the empire would rather brush under the rug. But on the streets of Hala there was no hiding the rumors that non-blue skins had Krelar somewhere in their roots- she’d heard that insult hurled at her more than once. Why it was this tiny forsaken spaceport Yon-Rogg envisioned when he meditated she had no idea, but it seemed like her best lead.

 Without sparing a second thought she punched in the coordinates she’d intimidated out of a smuggler in some seedy port and was on her way.

And it was indeed Krelar that she found him. Well, found was a tricky word, perhaps _tracked down_ might’ve fit better. It turned out Krelar citizens were surprisingly loose lipped and nosy about everyone’s business- especially in the face of the one-woman army: Captain Marvel, so she didn’t have to work hard to get her answer.

 Yon-Rogg was busying himself with packing a bag in an otherwise deserted hangar of some sort when she walked in, finding him exactly where they said he’d be. Carol stood in the doorway of the quiet hanger, transported through to another time for a moment- but the movement of Yon-Rogg’s broad shoulders whipped her back to reality.

 “Didn’t take you long.” He didn’t have to turn around from his packing to know she was there. He knew the sound of her boots better than anyone in the galaxy.

 “What,” She was mimicking his manner of speaking, because she was nothing if not feeling petty in the face of their reunion. “Is someone like you doing in a place like this?”

 When he declined to answer she continued. “Although you were always careful to never actually call it by name, Krelar seems a little more hedonistic than I remember you describing it.” Carol threw her arms up as she heard some sort of riotous cheering coming from god-knows-where outside. She walked up closer to him, boots echoing through the hanger with every step.

 “Feel free to enjoy yourself, but _please_ do piss off. I have a client coming.” He groused at her approach, but made no real moves to interrupt his packing. He’d left his patient manners back on Hala apparently.

 “Wait, so if you’re here, who’s running the genocidal kidnapping squad on Hala now?”

 “I left.” That was all Yon-Rogg gave her, but it told her quite a lot, seeing as he didn’t even attempt to defend his honor.

 “Why?” She nearly snorted in her disbelief, but it had to be true. She knew exactly where he should be at this time. It was around 1400 hours KMT, meaning he should’ve been prepping for their drill exercises that occurred precisely at 1415 hrs without fail, every single day.

 “The supreme intelligence deemed itself unworthy of my service.”

 “So you’re telling me answering to some manipulative souped-up omnipotent AI wasn’t quite doing it for you anymore?” She used her mockery to cover genuine surprise.

 “It showed me a flaw, or rather, it was the flaw that it _refused_ to show me.” He finally turned toward her, presumably to better view the effect his annoyingly cryptic answer might have on her. His golden eyes met hers in a slightly unnerving but familiar stare, however the two slash marks cutting an otherwise finely sculpted cheek were certainly new. They looked rather fresh, even.

 “I know you want me to ask, but I really don’t care enough.” She tilted her head to the side, fixing him with a lopsided grin.

 “It lied to me.”

 Carol barked a laugh at that, perhaps a little too hysterical, but damn if that wasn’t the most ironic shit she’d ever heard. “Yeah, join the club. Believe it or not, I didn’t come here to listen to why you’re having a rough week, month, or whatever. I’ve got things to do.”

 “Oh no? I believe you were the one who said you wanted to end the lies.”

 “That’s not priority at the moment, glad it stuck with you though.”  Well in a way it was, but stopping the Skrulls from getting slaughtered and freeing as many of them as she could, was currently taking precedent over fighting an all out war with the Kree because of her personal grievances.

 “Then why are you here, _Vers_?” And there was that all to familiar arrogance.

 Before Carol could help herself, she fried him- just a little. His hair stood on end as the energy pulsed through him, leaving him knocked on his ass. Perhaps a little crispy, but undamaged otherwise. Instead of retaliating in outrage he just looked somewhat weary.          

 Nonetheless, she marched into Yon-Rogg’s personal space while he was still down. “ _Carol_ is here because she’s taking your sorry ass back to her ship because she’s planning a mission.”

 “What’s that got to do with me exactly?”

 “I’m planning a mission, like I said. Needed a tactician and someone who knows their way around a blaster and you fit the bill.”

 “Yes, well thank you for the sentiment.” The bastard had the nerve to look genuinely touched, before cutting right to the chase, getting to the resistance she’d planned on encountering. “You can’t make me go with you.”

 Carol was nothing if unsurprised at her former commander’s arrogant pluck. She didn’t lift a finger, just leaned in a little closer, voice low and dangerous.  “You sure about that?”

 His unnerving eyes widened a bit and his brows shot up as he leaned away from her, ironically affronted at her implications. “Do you plan on kidnapping me?”

 “I’d prefer the terms ‘making you an offer you can’t refuse’.” She grinned at him, knowing full well he wouldn’t totally get that reference either, but intimidation was a universal language.

 “I _am_ Kree, you know. We can refuse quite a lot.” He said, flatly.

 “Well, I can either fry you and that shapely new suit you’ve got on, much to the displeasure of whoever you’re working for,” She gestured roughly at the places where the suit ran agreeably tight across his chest and biceps.

 “Or you can come with me and do something for the ‘good of all Kree’ and the galaxy. I’m technically giving you a _choice_ , by the way. You’re welcome.”   Carol gave a little shrug in faux nonchalance before sparking up a brief glow at the tips of her fingers for a little dramatic effect.

 “Good, is subjective.” Yon-Rogg grumbled, but got up nonetheless and made to get up and follow her- knowing he was woefully outmatched at the moment.  She knew he was well aware of how unpredictable she could be under the sheer weight of her own emotionality, and she had a _lot_ of pent up emotionality directed towards him. If only he knew just how much.

 Making an easy trek back to the Starbuster Carol threw him a backward glance, deciding to let him board the ship ramp first- just to prolong the weight of her glare. She knew he had more dignity than attempting to run away from her on foot, however she’d need to watch that he didn’t attempt to hijack her ship on the way back. However, she wouldn’t tie him up unless he gave her a compelling reason for it, his cooperation was being rewarded with relative freedom on the ride back. Just knowing she had the power to reward and punish him based on his actions was enough to sate her for the moment.

 It ended up being a surprisingly quiet ride back to Xandar, at least it was after she asked him how he ended up working as a bounty hunter. It was about 10 hours total, from jump-point to jump-point and if he wanted to spend it pouting in silence in the cargo area, she was more than happy to let him. As much as she yearned for revenge, to eject him into space, to scream at him for stealing 6 years of her life, for making her who she is today- for permanently ruining any true sense of belonging, she held steady to her course and stared out the viewport for most of the ride. If only to avoid letting the temptation of leaving him an icy rock floating in space overwhelm her, or so she told herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> titles taken from The Marvelettes songs. This first chapter is just setting the scene- the plot is basically just a vague background for the adult stuff coming.  
> Got something you wanna see? come scream at me [Spoke's Tumblr](https://spokane-domain.tumblr.com/)


	2. i’ll be in trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The waiting and close quarters finally drive them to push each other over the edge, in more ways than one.

It was times like this Carol valued the precious privacy living outside of the bustling capital afforded her. She could come and go as she pleased, nurse injured Skrulls back to life, plan with Talos and what was left of his crew, and now; bring home disgruntled Kree guests in the dead of night without raising suspicion.

Once she casually reentered Xandar’s atmosphere, she began configuring for the short approach landing into her own backyard, a feat she still couldn’t get over. Even though it was apparently low tech by Xandarian standards, it still blew her mind that she could park a goddamn ship in her own backyard. The higher end residences in the city apparently had grand landing platforms underground that connected through a series of tunnels, but Carol was perfectly impressed with her tiny outdoor landing pad and her little shed.

It was then that her Kree guest decided to make himself known again. “This- This is Xandar, you’ve brought me to _Xandar_.”  Yon-Rogg sounded a touch disconcerted.

“Good work, Sherlock.” Carol didn’t turn from where she was meticulously lining up and configuring for her final approach.

“I’m Kree.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“When they find out you’re harboring an enemy of the empire you’ll be arrested. You must be either extremely reckless or extremely desperate to risk your standing with Xandar to bring me here. I’d wager both by the look of things.” Yon-Rogg eased into an even tone he reserved only for lecturing her, apparently unsurprised by her lack of forethought.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, Xandar doesn’t care what I do. Almost no one even knows I even exist. ‘Cept for maybe the bodega guy with the cinnamon roll things. Cool guy, really weird antenna though.” Carol was nearly lined up, taking care to avoid the Nova Corps training drills happening about 1000 feet beneath them over the city, probably best if she didn’t run into them, ‘harboring an enemy of the empire’ and all that.

 “You’re not flying around, blasting things to bits with your almighty powers, punching a hole in the sky everywhere you go?”

 “Not often, besides it’s Xandar. It’d hardly be the strangest thing they’ve seen, probably wouldn’t even make the morning holos.” Carol strapped herself in, after flashing him a cheeky look of defiance. “You might wanna buckle up, buttercup.” Her landings were usually stellar, but this extremely short approach and the slightly botched repair job on the Starbuster could cause things to get a bit rough as she switched autopilot settings. 

 It turned out the landing was the easy part, figuring out where to put her Kree guest and how to tell Talos was bit more of a pickle.

 

-

 

Generally speaking, Carol often found the best solution was the easiest one. Since the mission to Chandilar was at most a 3 person operation, she elected to keep her Yon-Rogg under wraps until the last possible moment. It was the kind of deception her former mentor would’ve undoubtedly approved of, so she didn’t tell him what she was doing either. In fact, she didn’t tell him much of anything, simply because she had nothing to tell him. Talos would contact her when he had something of importance to share, but for now it was just a matter of waiting and a matter of sequestering him in her back bedroom. She’d been using it as an impromptu infirmary for her injured comrades as long as she’d resided in the house. But it proved a very ineffective prison, not that she’d tried terribly hard to make it into one. He knew better than to leave the house, even though he threatened it as a means of preserving his dignity, especially after she’d searched his personal effects and confiscated the 4 weapons he’d had on him.

 When she brought Yon-Rogg some synth protein cubes to the back room the next morning, Carol noticed the room was neater now than it’d ever been since she’d owned it. The sparse furnishings were neatly arranged, his bag was stowed away and the bed sheets were folded in strict accordance with the Kree Imperial Academy- another habit apparently drilled into him from youth. She had no idea what to expect when the door slid open, but this somehow left her unsurprised.

“You can’t keep me here.” He murmured as she set the plate on the metallic nightstand.

“I mean it’s either stay here or get caught as a Kree _and_ a bounty hunter on Xandar. Your choice.”

“You cannot make me help you.” He folded his sturdy arms across his chest. 

“Actually I can.” Carol's hands found their way to her waist as she unconsciously puffed herself up just a bit.

“And how’re you planning on doing that?”

She powered up her fists to prove her point, but her anger overpowered her until her whole body was aglow before she knew it.

To her frustration, he didn’t waver. “Remember what I told you about that Aakon camp on Oorga? They couldn’t break me and neither will you. Do your worst, Carol. Go ahead.”  She noted he wasn’t calling her Vers anymore, perhaps they both knew that persona was dead. However, his diminutive regard for her had not died with it.

“I don’t think you’ll survive my worst. But if you prove yourself to be more of a threat than an asset, we’ll find out.”

At that he scoffed. “You won’t kill me. You _can’t_.”

“I won’t? Try me.” She grabbed a fistful of his undershirt. Her emotions began to rise, causing the glow of her powers to pulse dangerously.

“Alright then, do it. I’m not going to help you, so get on with it. I’m sure you’ll find another strategist.” He needled at her hesitation. “Do it. Use those powers as we taught you to.”

“You didn’t teach me shit.” She frowned, expelling just enough energy to throw him to the ground, but instead he landed against the bed, sprawling out sweetly beneath her wrath. Gritting her teeth, she found that the subtle heat rising in the pit of her belly at that particular image made her even angrier than his taunts.

Instead of doing him further damage, Carol opted to throw plate of gelled cubes into his smirking face before storming from the room, sealing the doors behind her without a second glance. The Kree were a notoriously proud yet pragmatic race, she’d let Yon-Rogg war between scraping his breakfast off the floor or starving for the day.  She convinced herself she didn’t care which.

 

-

 

Another day passed without incident and Carol elected to ignore his presence in the back room, until she brought him another meal. She knew he could be planning his escape, or possibly even revenge with his idle time, but couldn’t bring herself to otherwise occupy him with the cruel treatment she knew he deserved.  She stayed on her guard as the door slid open, only to reveal him standing on his hands, upside-down in advanced meditation. Yoga was just catching on when he’d taken her from Earth, and remembering it now made the sacred Kree meditation rituals somewhat comical. She suppressed a giggle at envisioning banishing Yon-Rogg to Earth a yoga instructor, before dropping off his usual plate of cubes. This time she supplemented them with the questionable ‘instant chili’ she’d accidentally burnt.

As she turned to leave his gentle voice startled her. “Carol,” He swung his powerful legs forward to revert himself back into a standing position.  “If you can pin me without using your little light display, I’ll help you.”

“You’re really stuck on that aren’t you? You would honestly knowingly help the Skrulls if I knock you down?” She smirked at him without missing a beat.

“Yes.” His response sounded disarmingly genuine, but like hell she was going to trust him to his word without brute force or threats.

Regrettably, Carol noticed the marks on his face were getting bluer and could probably use some bacitra. Which she now remembered she’d used the last of on a Skrull from Lumina. She knew if intel didn’t come in soon to move this dysfunctional show on the road, she’d have to leave him to make a supply run sooner or later.

 

-

 

 She’d considered knocking him out beforehand but didn’t trust herself not to accidentally permanently damage him. He was still locked in the back room when she got back, her house wasn’t on fire and her ship was still in one piece, so there was that. Her mind was torn, the close quarters reminded her of a time when she’d trusted him more than anyone in the galaxy, but the current circumstances reminded her just how easily he’d lied and manipulated her for 6 goddamn years.   

“Yon, what the hell even are these?” She dabbed at the scratches on his face with the bacitra soaked rag. Bacitra, for all its wondrous medical properties had equally flammable capabilities and the last thing she was gonna do was give him pyrotechnics. Also, poking at his face in a caregiving role was strangely cathartic.

Yon-Rogg winced and made to grab the rag from her hands. “Don’t call me that. You know better than to use unhyphenated names.”

 Carol held firm to the rag. “Actually I don’t.”

“It’s personal and deeply inappropriate. I’ve told you this.” The ease at which he slipped into the tone of authority over her caused her blood to boil.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t screwed my mind up so badly I’d be able to keep track.” She snapped at him. “But what is this from, a goddamn flarken or something?”

“Flerken. But no.”

That correction was the last straw. She spitefully flicked her fingers into his cheek before taking her supplies and leaving him alone to deal with it on his own.

 

 -

 

The bacitra had done Yon-Rogg good, days later the skin on his cheeks was mending nicely. He’d even taken to venturing out of his room, and Carol hadn’t bothered to put him in his place about it yet. It was unnervingly natural how easily he’d slid into her life. Making it clear how lonely she truly was on this bustling planet- how desperate for companionship she must’ve become to allow things to get this far. She needed that intel, she needed something to do- she was half tempted to leave without it if only to avoid facing her own impulsive decision to bring him here a single day more.

“Why aren’t you out there fighting them?” He asked her one night from across the table, because apparently she was letting him eat with her now. In fact, it’d been her idea, insisting he ‘stop plotting’ in the back room and eat where she could see him.

“Fighting who?”  She inquired from the kitchen area where she was refilling her water glass.

 “Whoever threatens your precious Skrulls.”

Carol rolled her eyes as she set down the glass harder than strictly necessary. “It’s not just about that and you know it. It’s about ending the war, lies, and picking up the pieces. I just need to know where my next piece is.”  

“Do you truly believe you can bring peace across galaxies? You and you alone?” He sounded nearly concerned, as if he were somehow responsible for her.

She finally turned around, looking pointedly into his yellow gaze. “I’m not alone.”

At this he made a dismissive noise, but made no move to defend his honor, instead opting to retreat back into the back bedroom. She heard the door hiss shut behind him, then the sound of his feet heavy against the dura-surfaced floors as he methodically put himself through his routine imperial exercise drills.

 Carol found herself feeling more than a little stir-crazy as her body ached to practice right along with him. In a moment of impulse, she gave into the impulses of her muscle memory, doing the old Starforce drill exercises in the hallway right in front of his door, making sure to screw the order up as much as possible in the vain hopes she might make him lose track of his own.

 

-

 

Mere days later Carol felt as if she was fit to come undone. She certainly hadn’t planned on it taking this long; keeping him here this long with no real purpose just yet. She took to isolating herself to the back shed, repairing the Starbuster, upgrading it, and then taking it apart for the hell of having something to do that didn’t involve making herself feel guilty for not making every moment of Yon-Rogg’s life miserable. As much as he deserved it, she just couldn’t stand to do it, she wasn’t made for that. She was too empathetic, too emotional. They’d been tied too closely, even if it had all been a lie.

 “Why won’t you fight me yourself?” He asks her one afternoon, while she’s underneath the Starbuster and up to her elbows in wiring and coolant.

 “I have fought you myself. If it so happens I use glowing fists to pin you down- then that’s me too.” Carol took a moment to wipe the sweat off her face before continuing. “Have _you_ ever considered working on your photon blasts?”

 “I think we both know that’s not possible, Carol.”

“See that’s the problem, you expect me to change myself to even out the odds- but war just doesn’t work that way. Can you hand me that swivel-wrench?” She stretched her arm out, and was only half surprised that he acquiesced when she felt his fingers brush against hers and the weight of a cool metal handle. However, pulling her hand back under she found it wasn’t the tool she’d asked for.

“This is a spanner-wrench.”

“Is it?” She could tell just by that subtle lit in his voice that he knew full well what he’d done. This was getting entirely too comfortable and she hated him and herself for it.

 

-

 

Although Carol hadn’t made him half as miserable as he deserved, it was a wonder why Yon-Rogg even put up with her thus far, with apparently no desire to go back where he came from and even less desire to escape her laissez-faire style captivity. It was almost as if he wanted to be around her, as if her company was somehow preferable to whatever else was out there. That greatly unnerved her in unspoken ways. She half hoped he’d had some kind of bounty on him, or some disgruntled employer would come looking for him, to give her a real fight on her hands.

 It all finally came to a head the day her universal translator spontaneously started working perfectly again. Of which there was only one explanation; obviously it had been repaired. She had no idea how or when he’d done it, but she was determined to find out as she angrily made her way back to her residence from the rendezvous with the Skrull spies Mrok and Zirksu. She was already frustrated that they had, unsurprisingly, nothing new to give her; that their forces would have to wait a little while longer. But Yon-Rogg’s invasion on her privacy was beyond what she could take for the day. The suit always stayed stowed in her ship when not in use, which she’d made clear was off limits in no uncertain terms.

Carol contained herself just long enough to slip out of her suit, and frantically examine it- trying to find out what he’d done to it, what else had he modified, but she came up with nothing.

Clad in only her undershorts and racerback top, Carol barely waited for the front door to whirr open before bellowing out. “Okay, what the _hell_ Yon-Rogg?”  

“It’s nice to see you too, Carol.” He answered smartly, from the living room where he appeared to have a star map pulled up on his pocket sized halo-projector.

 “You bastard, did you fix this?” She marched over to him, shoving her suit into his face. Instead of answering he only raised his brows and fixed her with a golden stare, incensing her further.

“What the fuck did you do? Did you fucking touch my suit?”

“Knock me down, and I’ll tell you.” Apparently Yon-Rogg wasn’t ever going give up on that, even knowing full well the risks of severely pissing her off even further.

“You son of a bitch, you don’t get to do that!” She made to fist her hands into his shirt, to throw him so hard he landed in some supersonic heap against the finely manicured gardens of the capital. But instead, she just considered his composed yellow gaze boring into hers before dropping her hands.

“If you’re that desperate for me to touch you, _fine_. Let’s fucking go. Downstairs.” She spat at him, before marching down to the the small lower level her home afforded.

She’d finally reached the end of her rope, 9 days in. If he wanted a fight, then that’s what he’d get. She’d been itching for a fight for a few days after all.

 

-

 

The pair began trading blows with little prelude in her basement which was remarkably similar to the training rooms on Hala. It was spartan and clean- mostly because she’d only used it for storage thus far, and yet there was a remarkable charge in the air that flowed with an entirely different undercurrent than all their previous sessions. It somehow felt uncomfortably raw for Carol- aside from the fact that she was still only wearing her compression bra and shorts. Instead of serving to relive the pressure and strain she’d been feeling since she decided to pick him up, it only served to rile her up further. She fought desperately, sloppily- almost as if she dared him to call her on it, to discipline her as he once had. Her powers itched to put him back into his place.

Somewhere in her frantic scrabbling Carol ended up grabbing a fistful of his crewneck undershirt and inadvertently ripped it straight down the center, rendering the garment useless.

“I don’t have many of those, you know.” Yon-Rogg only sounded disappointed at her lack of finesse.

 “I could ask Talos for a donation.” She grit back at him, while attempting to grabble with his now exposed and robustly defined chest.

He growled under his breath at her, but remained irritatingly unmoved by her jab and Carol half wondered if going for a fistful of his extensive chest hair would be as painful as she imagined it’d be. Though he’d gotten a few more blows in than she’d care to admit and her sides were smarting, she stubbornly refused to indulge her powers for the moment. If she blasted him this would end all too quickly, and some part of her was sincerely enjoying this, some part above her psychical and emotional complaints.

“Okay so seriously, what the hell happened on Hala?”  She fell into casual conversation, just like they always had while sparring. “Like between you and the intelligence? I assume you didn’t just decide to be a bounty hunter one day for shit and giggles.”

“It revealed itself to be afraid.” He flatly responded while leaning just out of range of her next fist.

“Afraid? How so?” Carol tilted her head smartly, while barely avoiding a swift kick to her shins.

“Because of what refused to show it to me, even though I know it to be true. I refused to serve such cowardice.” The Kree’s voice was disarmingly intimate as he launched another fist in her direction.

“Oh yeah? And what was that?”

“You.” He said simply, as he dodged yet another sweeping kick of hers.

And there was her answer; what he’d seen- or rather, _hadn’t_ seen. The supreme intelligence should’ve taken her form, but apparently didn’t and somehow that epiphany had shattered the foundations of his faith.  Inwardly Carol was giddy, knowing she’d impregnated Hala’s star commander with the seeds of doubt. Knowing that she alone was capable of causing someone as devout as Yon-Rogg to doubt his faith enough to be the driving force behind his defection. It was a heady feeling, and just what she needed.

 That’s when Carol finally turned the tables, powering up her fist, and savoring the feeling of the energy coursing through her. Yon-Rogg’s eyes widened slightly as he shifted his attention to her glowing hand, and there she knew she had him.

“Did I hit a nerve?” He gave her one of his winsome half smiles as he arrogantly regarded her.

 _No but I’m about to._ She thought smugly as her split second distraction worked, and she nailed him square in the jaw with her other fist, forceful enough to cause him to stumble back. It was all the opening she needed and was on him in moments, using his stumble as an opportunity to tackle him to the floor.

Yon-Rogg finally lay underneath her and yet somehow the victory felt achingly hollow. She knew this was what he’d truly wanted all along. She done him goddamn proud, knowing it was _he_ who taught her to knock him down. As she stared down at him, her emotions running high in combination with the adrenalin coursing through her made her feel dangerously uninhibited. It made her feel like she needed to release her emotions, to show him she’d won on _her_ terms instead of his, to feast on his failings.

She got in his face right away, prompting him to freeze- almost in expectant curiosity for a scathing jab at his pride, or perhaps another fist to the jaw. Instead she spoke, a harsh whisper against his chin. “Seven goddamn years. You better make this worth the wait.”

“Wha-”

 She closed the space between their lips before he could further analyze the situation. The kiss started deceptively tender, just the slight crush of her lips against his. But as she leaned into him, it dawned on her that he hadn’t pushed her off as she’d expected, or taken advantage of her distraction to flip her under his mercy.

The mere thought that he actually may want this too was more than enough to bring her simmering emotions to a fervent boil. Carol suddenly couldn’t get enough, fisting her hands into his downy brown tufts and deepening the kiss by adding her tongue into the mix.

His surprised groan rumbled through her and although Yon-Rogg was apparently too overwhelmed to return much of it, he took all that she had to offer. By the time her traitorous lungs finally protested she could feel his tongue tentatively begin to slide against hers. Her own panting was thunderous in her ears when she finally broke off contact to rear back, but Carol found no clarity- no moment of respite as she took a moment to consider him. Her blood was already far too heated for second guesses.

“This isn’t a good— What are you doing?” Yon-Rogg sat up just enough to prop himself up on his elbows, before being knocked back by the passionate force of Carol’s mouth once more.

 “Mmm, kinda thought that was obvious.” She panted in the breaths between her assault on his lips, which she noted were slightly swollen and flushing a delicious shade of blue. She nearly jumped when she finally felt a calloused hand grip the back of her neck, guiding the slot of their mouths together in a more cohesive tempo.

 The cradle of her powerful hips came to rest over his, and he hissed sharply between his teeth while pulling back slightly. Carol took the opportunity to yank off her racerback undertop, baring her chest to him, the exposure immediately chilling her nipples into rosy peaks.  She didn’t give him much opportunity to ogle before she was right back against his mouth as if fighting against some invisible deadline. Perhaps she was; fighting against her better judgments. But this sure as hell seemed like a great idea at the time, especially given how long she’d wanted this, which was… Much longer than she cared to admit.

Warm, rough hands came up to support her back as he finally took some initiative and sat himself up, but unfortunately unseated her hips in the process.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, you know.” She said in a heady rush as she unceremoniously shoved her pants down and climbed into his lap once more, leaving her lower undergarments on for the moment.

“H-Have you now?” Yon-Rogg’s breathy stutter seemed to be the only evidence that he was torn asunder by desire as badly as she was, but when she wormed her hands around his waist to tug down his sweats she found no doubt as to the effect her attentions were having on him.

He was hard enough to cut windshield glass, the thick outline of his cock stretched tight along the front of his compression shorts, the sight of it giving Carol a fresh gush of warmth between her thighs. It made her sticky with want and ache with curiosity, for she’d never had a Kree in this way before. She’d seen her fair share of nudity on Hala, but things were so much different now that she had her Terran memories back to serve as a comparison. In fact, Kree of all genders were much better endowed than their human counterparts if memory now served correct, which would’ve made sharing a locker room with Minn-Erva that much more intimidating had she been aware of it at the time.

 “You’ve been holding out on me, Commander.” She quirked a single brow at him, looking pointedly down at the Kree sized bulge their little make out session has apparently stirred up in his shorts.

“You call me that, and I’m calling you Vers.” He grumbled, apparently sticking to dry wit as a means of clinging onto his composure.

“Hey, I’m just trying to give you a compliment because-” She whistled softly to herself. “Wow.”

He jumped when she made contact with him though his shorts, her deft fingers giving him a light squeeze. She was rewarded by a hiss of a drawn out out swear in native Kree, an ancient sacred language she’d never heard uttered with such filthy intention. Yon-Rogg’s rough jaw was clenching tightly, and he didn’t seem to know where to put his hands so he settled for clawing them into the floor until his knuckles were white.

“Relax.” Carol found herself telling him, unsure of why he needed to hear it- and why he seemed to be tightly clinging to such restraint.

“You’re making that rather difficult at the moment.”

One of his hands, notably trembling, reached for her breast before apparently thinking better of it. Undeterred Carol caught it by the wrist as she crawled into his lap, eager to grind against the parts of him who obviously shared none of his hesitation.  His hand roughly grasped at her breast before both hands moved to her waist, fighting to control her movements against him.

 “Wait,” Yon-Rogg all but pleaded with her, but Carol was done waiting. She ground herself against him, feverishly searching for friction against her clit.

 Their undergarments faintly dampened the divine slide of her slick center against the rigid outline of his cock, but the fierce desire to leave her mark on him melted all coherent thought for the moment. Humming her pleasure as she sunk her teeth into the heated flesh of his neck, she bit and sucked until the flesh grew purple with angry marks, the movement of her hips relentless against him. His hands gripped her hips tighter, bordering on painful as she latched onto the rough stubbled flesh under his jaw.

“Everyone who sees you is gonna know,” She spoke in a savage whisper against the place where his hair curled slightly against his neck. “what I did to you.”

 She barely registered that there were words among his incoherent groans, more colorful native Kree along with an old favorite “—fuck. Oh, _Fuck_.” He gave a cataclysmic grunt and spasmed so hard she felt it against her inner thigh and _oh shit._ They both stared down at the very obvious wet stain on the front of his compression shorts, expanding with each rhythmic twitch of his cock against the fabric.

Oh. _Oh._ He’d very evidently just cum, and made a mess of his shorts. She was fairly sure there was quite a bit more than the average human male as the entire front was now soaked with it, which might’ve been hot had they actually made it past third base.  Their eyes met as they looked up, her former commander looking rather shell-shocked and possibly more surprised than she at what just transpired.

 “What the hell just happened?” Carol spoke almost in disbelief, if the evidence wasn’t threatening to drip onto her immaculate basement floor.

“I’ve just eja-”

“Oh my god, I can _see_ that. I meant like, why.” They hadn’t even made direct contact, and yet he’d just spilled himself like some undisciplined teenager.

 Carol knew the Kree generally quite liked sex; she’d seen it, heard it, _smelled_ it on occasion, but the idea of Yon-Rogg remaining untouched- or at least _very_ out of practice out of some sense of duty or devout piousness had never occurred to her. However, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch of the imagination to imagine that might be exactly what she was dealing with here. He said nothing, as if he didn’t care to dignify that with a response.

“So, have you actually ever done this before?” She continued, attempting to contain her sheer delight and unbridled thrill at the prospect of him breaking decades worth of celibacy, but failed miserably. He’d lost control, and she wasn’t going to let him live that down easily.

“Of course I have.” He snapped back at her, but somehow she remained unsure. His face was turning a subtle purple as he flushed, out of annoyance or embarrassment she couldn’t quite parse out. As tempted as she was to needle him further about it, she resisted the temptation lest she chase him away before she got the relief she so sweetly ached for.

“I wanna teach you how to make me cum.” She shimmied her undergarments off her hips with little ceremony.

“I know how to make a-”

“No, _me_ specifically.” She interrupted in a voice that brooked no real argument as she reached for his wrist and slid up his chest, her pussy lips leaving a wet stripe across the hair of his torso.

Carol found herself already so wound up, Yon-Rogg wouldn’t have to work hard to achieve her goal. She took hold of his wrist and guided it to herself, sliding his fingers along her outer lips until they were slick with her essence. For someone who’d dismissively claimed they knew what they were doing moments ago, he was delightfully receptive to her instruction. Carol began to grind herself against his soaked fingers, until he seemed to get the memo and cautiously began rubbing them along her clit.

“…You can go faster.” The pleasure was building, seeing her former commander with his cum soaked undershorts rubbing at her with the same precision he taught her to rewire a bomb with, was doing it for her rather nicely. But she needed just a bit more. “C’mon, you won’t break me.” She tugged at his wrist. 

“Right, yeah I know.” He seemed to shake himself out of his dreamy reverie, before moving his large fingers in tighter circles at a rougher pace.

 “There you go, mmph- _yeah_.” Carol could feel the waves starting to rise up as she undulated her hips along his chest, giving another direction of stimulation against herself.  Yon-Rogg’s look of total concentration combined with blissful awe as he learned her body was enough to finally send her over the edge, whimpering sweetly as she rode the pulses of her climax.

Her inner walls clenching around nothing, reminding her that there was still uncharted territory between them- there was still more for Carol to teach him about her. Thus instead of coming down utterly satisfied, she only felt impossibly more aroused. Resting her head against his neck she curled in on herself as she caught her breath for a moment. Figuring she may as well give Yon-Rogg full use of his lungs again she sought redistribute herself somewhere other than his chest, but as Carol slid back a warm firmness caught her attention and her left butt-cheek. 

 _Well_ then. God bless Kree refractory periods. However, the floor had become jarringly unforgiving against her knees, and this wasn’t quite where she wanted him.

 “Get up.” Carol offered him her hand before she could think twice about it. “We’re going upstairs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a lot to unpack here, but i wasn't kidding about that e rating.


End file.
